


When we were young

by EJ06



Category: Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Letters, Young Love, YoungElizabethBennet, YoungFitzwilliamDarcy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:59:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9297263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EJ06/pseuds/EJ06
Summary: Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy are a young man and women from two completely different worlds.He's master of a large estate, she's an honest country girl.He's proud, she's strong minded.He's all responsabilities and buisness, she's all about following her heart.But what if they met when they were just kids, back when social status didn't really matter to them?What if they exchanged letters for a long time and then lost each other, just to meet again ages later?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everybody :) This is my first work ever yay!  
> I have a few things to tell you guys:  
> *Firstly, I did some researches, but I'm no expert of 19th century's ways, so you might find some things that aren't exactly accurate historically and culturally speaking. If you do and you know better, please tell me, I'm really interested.  
> *I know Lizzy and Darcy are actually eight years apart, but for they sake of the storyline, they're four years apart, here. So in this chapter she's 8 and he's 12  
> *I nominated Wickam in this first chapter, but he's probably not going to come up again, maybe just some hints here and there.  
> *I'm italian, so there might be some grammar mistakes. If there are, please tell me.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Lizzy loved summer mornings like that one, when the sun, not yet so high in the sky, shone through the tree brenches moved by the gentle Hertfortshire’s wind.

She loved when her father, after she’d done her chores, allawed her to go on horseback riding with Peggy, the young pony they bought last year.

Without telling mother, naturally. She would’ve never approved.

She was quite young for horse riding, but father had taught her well, and she’d promised to always be prudent.

Elizabeth was enjoying her ride, when she heard a panicked cry. «Charles? Charles!»  
It was a boy’s voice, but she couldn’t quite make out where it’s owner was. She dismounted and tied Peggy’s reins to a thin tree trunk.

«Charles this isn’t amusing! I’m warning you, I’ll make your behaviour known to your mother. She won’t be happy with you»  
Elizabeth followed the voice, untill she spotted a young boy sitting on a tree brench, legs dangling a few meters from the ground.

«Hello, there» the boy jumped in his place and almost lost his balance. «Are you in need of assistence?»

He stared down at her, nose up to meet his eyes and hair ruffled by the early ride, quite annoyed by her presence. «And who might _you_ be?»

Elizabeth ligthly furrowed her brow in confusion at his unfriendly attitude, but nonetheless curtesied with a slight bow of her head «My name is Elizabeth Bennet. Might I know what name you go by?»

«Fitzwilliam..» the boy hesitated for a moment, remembering what his mother told him about giving out his name. «...Wickam»

When the girl beneath him tried to stifle her giggle with the back of her hand, without succeding, it had annoyed him even more «What's so amusing?»

She kept giggling «You have a funny name!»

He was very surpried by the young girl’s forewardness, since they’d only just encountered. She obviously wasn’t well aquainted with good manners, living in the countryside.

«And you have very poor manners» he hissed back.  
His comment immediatly killed off her hilarity, and her childish face turned serious. «That is most untrue. I offered you my help, and curtesied»

Lizzy’s tone had been far more petulant then she intended it to be.

«And anyways, it would be most unlikely for a man such as myself to be in need of assistence from a little girl such as you»

The little girl, as he addressed her as, had started to tire of his snobbish behaviour, and that caused a very witty response to escape her mouth. «With all due respect, you are far too young to call yourself a men, I am no little girl, and you are the one who climbed on a tree and isn’t able to come down»

The boy was caught off guard by Elizabeth’s outburst.  
«I’m not unable to climb down, I’m just...» he only managed to stutter. «...I just want to enjoy the view a few minutes more»

Only then Elizabeth realized that his breath was uneven and his hands had been gripping the brench so tight it made his knuckles white. She studied him for a second, and her anger flowed away as she widened her eyes in realization «You are afraid of heights, aren’t you?»

«I’m not» but he’d esitated before answering.

Lizzy’s tone softened as she started climbing the tree. «Come I’ll show you how to do it»  
«No, don’t» Fitzwilliam tried to stop her, in part out of pride, in part out of genuine concern. «It’s too dangerous, and you are far too young»

«Climbing trees isn’t dangerous if one knows how to do it» she nearly grunted out in the effort of grabbing one of the lower benches and push herself up. Her mother woldn’t have been happy to see her in such an unladylike situation, she thought, but it was for a greater cause. «And please stop saying I’m too young for everything, I am eight!»

«Great» the boy muttered sarcastically under his breath. «Getting aid by an eight years old girl»

By then, Lizzy had almost reached his brench, impressing him with her climbing abilities. «So, what now?»  
She sat on the brench beside him, ignoring his question. «It really is an enjoyable view»

He had obviously lied before, when he’d told her he was there because of the view. He’d not for a second payed attention to it until she pronounced the words.

They stayed in silence for a while, side by side, and the boy’s breath wasn’t so ragged anymore by then.  
«Come now, you must not think of this as something dangerous» she spoke out unexpectedly. «It’s an easy game, really»

Lizzy told him to watch her steps while she climbed down. «See?»  
She’d been incredibly fast and gracious, making it seem like a simple task. «Now try and find your footing, as I did. It should be easier for you, for your legs are longer than mine»

He shifted carefully, gripping the brench tight and easing down slowly.  
«No, you must turn around» she instructed.   
«I cannot possibly find footing if I can’t see» he complained furrowing his brow.

She rolled her eyes in a way that Fitzwilliam found most disrespectful, but he couldn’t find the strenght to voice his toughts.

«You must feel it, not see it»

He reclutanctly turned around, gripped the brench with all his strength and let his legs dangle into the air. After a moment of panick he finally touched the lower brench with his tiptoe.

Lizzy encouraged him from the ground. «Just like that»

He kept going for a few minutes, sweat forming on his forhead.

«Almost there» the girl finally exclaimed. «Now just let go. Bend your legs for the landing»

He breathed in and out a few times, closed his eyes and let go. His feet found the ground for a second, before he lost his balance and awkwardly fell on his behind.

«You did it!» cried out the young girl in excitment, jumping up and down before offering him her hand. He grabbed it and pulled himself up to stand again, brushing the dirt off his clothes. «Apparently so»

Lizzy looked at him expectantly, but he remained quiet.  
She raised an eyebrow. «Well, I think gratitude it’s in order now»  
Fitzwilliam fidgeted with his fingers in embarrasment, but then overcame his pride. «You are right, I have been unforgivingly rude»  
He extended his hand formally to her. «I beg you to forgive my dreadful behaviour and to accept my most sincere thanks for your aid, miss Bennet»

She laughed at the pompous tone of his little speech, but grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously.  
«There’s nothing to forgive, and you are most welcome» she answered cheerfully. «And please, call me Elizabeth»

He had been reluctant to the informal turn their conversation had been taking, but she didn’t allow him time to reply. «And may I call you William? I did save your life, I think we can allow ourselves to skip to the first name basis»

He thought about the propriety rules he was taught, but her ranting had been so endearing that he couldn’t help but smile.  
«Well then» he bowed and took her small hand in his, bestowing a light kiss on the back of it.  
«Thank you for your help, miss Elizabeth» he said causing her to giggile again and blush a little.

«I must go now»

Lizzy’s smile faded: just when she’d found a friend to play with, he already wanted to leave.  
«Must you?» she asked, her lips unintentionally forming a pout. «Please, stay for a while more. It’s not yet noon»

Fitzwilliam expression softened under her pleading big eyes. Something about Elizabeth reminded him of his dear little sister Georgiana.

A light sparkled in Lizzy’s eyes as she perceived his esitation.  
«We could go horseback riding» she added trying to persuade him to stay. «I could theach you, if you’d like»

Fitzwilliam had thought about refusing, really. But the subtle challenge in her words had awaken his wounded pride.  
«Oh I can ride, thank you very much» he said with a confident smirk. Back in his family’s mansion, in Derbyshire, horseback riding was one of his favourite occupations. «Maybe _I_ could teach _you»_

Elizabeth smiled happily. «We’ll see about that»


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :)  
> This is a bit short, but I just wanted to give a little insight on the way their friendship developed. Next chapter will be all letters.  
> As always, if you see any mistakes, please let me know.
> 
> You don't even know how grateful I am to every single one of you, who spent time reading my first chapter.  
> I looooove you.

Fitzwilliam went to Hertfordshire every summer, for a few weeks, guest in the Bingley’s summer mansion.

Every time Charles was busy with his own stuff, or had lessons with his governess, Fitzwilliam tried to snuck out and go play with Elizabeth.  
It wasn’t always easy: being a guest of honor, the staff always looked out for him, they would have never let him leave unescorted, walking for fifteen minutes to reach his friend and play in the field next to her mansion.

The one time he and Charles had managed to reach that field, it was because of a fortunate escape plan and a young and inexperienced maid, who was supposed to escort them in a innocent walk round the gardens.

That was the day he met Lizzy, when Bingley had left him on that tree after he'd dared him to climb on it.  
When he got back, clothes all dirty and guilty face, Mrs Bingley grounded him and Charles for four days.

But he and Elizabeth still managed to meet, somehow, and those moments were the happiest in his summers.

Lizzy was four years younger than him, but she was smart, and witty, and adventurous and fun, and Fitzwilliam never had such a friend, back in Derbyshire. Sure, he had Georgiana, and Charles, but it wasn’t the same. They played, but they were never really allowed to do what he was able to do with Lizzy.

She taught him not to care.  
When he was with her, all manners had to be gone (she made that a rule). Fitzwilliam had insisted a few times, courtesing to her and refusing to call her by her christian name.

_«Why won’t you call me Lizzy?» she asked him once, as they were resting under the shadow of a big tree after running around relentlessly. He thought about it for a while._

_«It wouldn’t be appropriate of me» he answered shrugging. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion._

_«But I do call you Will»_  
_«Well, you shouldn’t»_

_His simple answer didn't bother her. It made her smirk, instead._

_«Oh, I beg you to forgive my forwardness, my Lord Wickam of Derbyshire» she curtesied, mocking his formal ways._

_He wanted to tell her to quit it, but he just pursed his lips and looked away: she would have made fun of him endlessly if, after his speech about good manners, he snapped at her like that._  
_But Lizzy wasn't even close to let that go._

_«Oh dear God, did I offend the great Mr Wickam?» she went on covering her mouth with a hand, feigning distress. «Was it my courtesy? Was my bow not deep enough?»_

_«Come now, give it a rest, will you?»_

_Lizzy didn't even pretend to hear his plea: she fell on her knees beside him._  
_«Of all the catastrophes in my miserable life, offending a gentleman thus way!»_

_«I’m warning you»_

_By then she’d had thrown herself on the ground completely, resting a hand on her forehead dramatically. His warnings only made it all the more fun for her._

_«I’d rather die, than live with a constant reminder of his disdain towards me» she cried out. «Disonor on me! On my family, on my horse...»_

_«Start running, Lizzy»_

_Hearing that name from his lips was perhaps one of her greatest victories. She was about to make a remark on how easily he’d given up but, when she sat up and saw his expression, she wasn't so sure of her victory anymore. She eyed his hand, fingers clenching around a bunch of dirt._

_«You wouldn’t»_  
_«Oh, but I would»._

_As her confidence faded away, his strated to build up._

_«Run, Lizzy»_

And it ended so, two kids running around and squealing, in an epic dirt battle.

He never called her Miss Bennet or Miss Elizabeth again.

It made him uncomfortable in the beginning, the lack of manners, but after a while he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. He actually quite liked it.  
He had been raised in a very formal environment, and Lizzy’s ways were refreshing to him.

They talked a lot, about their families (although Fitwilliam kept secret his family’s name), their hobbies, their friends. The talked about Jane, and about Georgiana, about the strong bond they had with them. They talked about books a lot, too.

He felt a bit guilty about it, but he had to admit that he never expected Elizabeth to be so well instructed. The year her father taught her to read (she was eight) she’d bring a different book to the field, every day, and force him to listen her read and correct her.

They taught each other a lot, and fought a lot.

Like that time Fitzwilliam decided that he had to teach her to swim. When she’d opposed to it, scared to death, he just threw her in the stream running near the field. She did swim, after all. Out of survival instinct, until she reached the shore again.

_«This is not teaching, Fitzwilliam Wickam, this is attempted murder!»_

She didn’t talk to him for a week.

Or again, that time she’d decided to pull a silly joke on him, and left Peggy’s saddle untied. He’d fell face first on the ground, fortunatly getting only a few nasty scratches on his face. She’d felt so guilty she’d almost cried.  
The next day she’d stolen from the kitchen some lemon jelly her mother had prepared, and waited for him in the usual spot. She'd waited for hours, but he never came.

For her theft, her mother grounded her, making her exercise at the piano for a whole day.

He eventually forgave her. They always forgave each other.

***

Every summer, when Fitwilliam's weeks were up, they’d exchange gifts the day before his departure. Silly ones, really.  
One summer she’d cut off some hair from Peggy’s tail and made a bracelet out of it.

_«To remind you to practice, since I still am a better rider than you are»_

He’d laughed and thanked her.  
It was disgusting, but he still wore it all winter long.

On his part, he’d worked a whole morning on a crown made out of thin brenches an leaves.

She wore it all day long and, when she finally took it off, she hid it in a secret drawer. Even when the leaves died and turned brown, and the whole thing was falling apart, she still kept it.  
At one point her mother found it an threw it away.  
She cried.

*** 

The first letter came a few days after her tenth birthday. It was the biggest surprise she ever had.

_Dear Elizabeth,_  
_Happy birthday._

_You are ten, already, I cannot allow myself to call you little girl anymore._  
_I hope your family is well, and that you celebrated with all your loved ones. Has Mrs Bennet done her famous lemon jelly for you?_

_I wish I could celebrate with you running around, or riding with Peggy, or going for a swim, but this is the best I can do under the circumstances._

_I trust your reading has improved from last summer. Have you red the books I suggested? I am warning you, I will test you when I come back._

_I’m trying to teach Georgie to read, but she just turned six, poor soul, she is too young for that._  
_She reminds me of you a great deal. Hopefully you will meet one day, and you will see what I am talking about._

_I look forward to the upcoming summer._

_Your dear friend,_  
_Fitzwilliam_

Lizzy had admired his elegant writing and envied it a little.

She kept the letter in a secret spot, as she did with all the letters that came from that day on.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I am soooo sorry for the late update. It took me forever to write this chapter because I realized I had a very vague idea of how the storyline would evolve. Hopefully, the nexy chapters will be up faster.  
> This chapter consists in the letters Lizzy and Darcy exchanged while being apart. I didn't write ALL of the letters they exchanged (a book wouldn't have enough pages for that), but I tried to write all the letters that testify a growth to their relationship.  
> As always, this is probably not a perfectly accurate depiction of the 19th century's ways. And there might be some grammar errors. If you have any pointers for me, please let me know in the comments.  
> Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments, and is still following me. It means a lot <3

_Dear Fitzwilliam,_

_Why do you get to stay in Hertfordshire only two weeks every summer? It’s throughly frustrating. I feel so ungrateful: I know I should appreciate any amount of time garanted to us, but every time you leave I miss you greatly. My sisters, especially Jane, provide me much comfort. None of them know about you, but perhaps I will tell Jane, someday. I think you and her would get along very well, you are so alike._

_I miss you very much, and look forward to your reply._

_Your very best friend,  
Lizzy_

_P.S. I’ve been writing for quite some years now, and yet my handwriting is not nearly as graceful as yours. I must conclude that you have a very delicate and feminine hand, sir._

_Dearest Elizabeth,_

_My hand, and handwriting for the matter, it’s very masculine, thank you for your concern. And do not worry yourself, yours will improve, I assure you. It already has, if you asked my opinion._

_Charles doesn’t know either, but I have told Georgie about you. Very vaguely. I think perhaps she now assumes that I have an imaginary friend. She is growing up so quickly, smarter and more beautiful everyday. Altough she is just eight years old, I am already able to picture myself fighting off suitors, for I fear there are going to be an aweful amount._

_I miss you greatly._

_Your very masculine handed friend,  
Fitzwilliam _

_***_

_Dear Will,_

_Happy birthday. Seventeen. Now I should really begin to call you “Sir” and “Mr”. I do have a gift for you, and I will present it to you in a few months, when you come back for the summer._

_So, tell me, how does the party of an adult take place? Were Charles and Georgiana there? Did you still get gifts and a cake? Oh dear, I almost forgot! Was this a debut party as well? Are you out in society?_

_Write as soon as you can,  
Lizzy_

 

_Dearest Lizzy,_

_Thanks for the letter. My birthady would have not been the same without it.  
_

_Yes, I celebrated with my family, and Charles’ family. Of course, my father had to spoil the mood, making a remark about me “becoming a man” (whatever that means) and picking up the family buisness._  
Not that I cared, I never enjoyed parties anyways. I just don’t think it’s necessary for him to bring up the buisness issue every time. I don’t have anything against my family buisness, and I know I will pick it up with great pleasure when the time comes. But the time isn’t here yet.  
Pressuring me, and making me feel inadequate won’t make it come faster. 

_Anyways, I am not out in society. We decided to have my debut party next year.  
How about you? I know women usually debut earlier than man. Of course you are young, you still have a few years, but have you thought about it? _

_Your friend (whom is starting to get old),  
Fitzwilliam _

 

 

_Dear Will,_

_Do not talk like that, I know you enjoy parties. And do not worry, I am sure your father means well. You are very smart, and I am certain you will do great with your family buisness. I cannot imagine you failing in anything._

_Altough I do understand how you feel. My mother has the unique gift of being the most pressuring human being on earth. She would win your father over any day, believe me. Only she is concerned with other matters, that cause her much distress, like marriage and propriety (how flattering). She is now using said gift on Jane, for her debut in society. My sister is, however, the most gentle and docile girl I have ever met, and handles my mother insistence with admirable dignity and self control. And she is quite content herself with the settlement of her debut party on her fifteenth birthday, next year.  
Meaning that, fortunately, my mother's focus is merely on Jane, for the time being, sparing me. _

_I haven’t thought about my own debut party. I must admit it is a quite uncomfortable subject for me. I feel like I’m not ready, and won’t ever be._

_Yours,  
Lizzy _

 

_***_

 

_My dearest Elizabeth,_

_I have bad news. I unfortunately won’t be able to join you for the summer. My father told me that, due to my upcoming eighteenth birthday and debut, I will have a summer intensive course on my family buisness' management instead of going to the Bingley’s mansion._  
And you won’t ever believe who will be lecturing me. My father himslef.  
I am excited beyond words: I will spend the whole summer following him around and dealing with his trade. I will learn more than I have ever learned form books, and get the chance to prove my worth to him. 

_I’m sorry, I really am, I was looking forward to seeing you again. I hate the idea of missing out on all the fun, the riding, the swimming, and you.  
I hope you understand that this is something bigger than me, and very important. _

_I will make it up to you eventually, I promise. But for now accept this poor excuse of an apology and, believe me, not a day will go by that I won't miss you._

_Your very sorry (but hopefully still best) friend,  
Fitzwilliam _

 

 

_Will,_

_Don’t you even dare to apologize! How ridiculous of you! This is wonderful news, I am so happy for you. It is indeed a great opportunity and I am sure you will make your father proud. Because I am proud._

_Of course, I will miss you greatly, but last summer you brought me so many books I have them to spare. They will provide me a shelter from boredom.  
Too bad I won’t be able to return them for another year, ah. _

_Do not worry yourself, I will be waiting for you. Or your letters. Both will do._

_Your very proud friend,  
Elizabeth _

 

_***_

 

_Dear Elizabeth,_

_Happy fourteenth birthday. I hope you will have a great day with your loved ones. I wish I could be there to celebrate you as well.  
I trust you and your family are faring well. _

_I will be leaving for the countryside with my father in a few hours, and will be away for two weeks. Meaning that I won’t recieve any of your letters.  
So please, don’t bother yourself replying. Just know that I wish you the best and miss you greatly. _

_Yours,  
Will _

 

_***_

 

_Dear Will,_

_Jane’s debut party was beautiful. She was stunning (she was always the prettiest among us sisters) in her simple dress, and the assembly room our father rented was huge. There were lights and music and everyone was dancing._  
I must admit that perhaps it may not be as bad as I thought. I am still worried of course: Jane is beautiful, and kind, and intelligent, she will have plenty of great suitors to choose among. She will have the life she always dreamed of, and make our family proud.  
I fear it won’t be the same for me. I am not as pretty or as gentle as her. And I feel like I have to study a lot more, and travel, and play chess with my father, and be with my mother and sisters. 

_Enough with my selfish concerns. How are you and your family faring?_

_Lizzy_

_P.S. You are the laziest writer. It takes you forever to reply!_

_***_

 

_Dear Elizabeth,_

_I wish you would stop asking me how being out in society is. I do not feel any difference.  
Then again, the situation is different for men and women, so you should probably ask your sister. She certainly will be a more suitable source of information. Why ever won’t you ask her? I can’t believe you feel embarassed to talk to her about that, you always told me you share everything! _

_Please, explain me what keeps you from sharing this with her, I really don’t understand._

_Your very confused friend,  
Fitzwilliam _

 

 

_Dear William,_

_Of course you don’t understand, for man is much easier: you court a woman, and there are slight chances of her turning you down if a proposal happened. Whereas us women only have to wait for a suitor, we cannot court, and we surely don’t have the pleasure to choose who will court us. And if a women isn’t particularly beautiful (read, me), she can’t be a snob, turning down suitors, because she might have none left. And a women who doesn’t get married it’s a weight to her family, and has no future. How many chances do us women get to marry out of love?_

_I don’t want to weight my sister down with such dark thoughts, since her future holds in store much brighter perspectives. Yours as well, so it’s best if I never bring this up again._

_Lizzy_

 

 

_Elizabeth,_

_You are being overly dramatic, maybe you red to many of those books I gave you.  
Romance is rare for everybody and more often marriages are arranged to the advantage of both parties. There’s nothing wrong with a convenience marriage. _

_And it’s a bit presumptios of you to assume that things are always easier for man: we too, often, have to choose to court a women because of her status, not our sentiment. I have seen it happen, it happens everyday._

_It it quite presumptios of you to assume that things are easier for your sister, too: she might have your same fears and concerns. I would advice you to share this with her. It will only make your sisterly bond grow much tighter._

_But from the way you reacted to my previous letter, I assume it is not my place to advice you on this matter. Please forgive me if I offended you in anyway._

_Fitzwilliam_

 

 

_Dear Will,_

_I’m sorry, I was so rude in my reply, you were only trying to help. I never thought about marriage from the male side. I realize now, I haven’t really thought about the fact that my sister could have such fears as my own. I guess I really am presumptios, and quite selfish, as well._

_I am the one to owe you an apology. I am sorry Will, and grateful for your helpful words of advice._

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear William,_

_Well, I guess your buisness really keeps you busy: another summer without you. Although I am happy for you, really._  
Your letters about your buisness travels are always a pleasure to read. You are not even nineteen, and yet you have been in so many places.  
I must admit, I am jelous. But very, very happy for you indeed, my friend. 

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear Lizzy,_

_Happy fifteenth birthday.  
The time has come for your debut in society, finally. I know your fears, and I understand them, I truly do. But I can also tell you, that those fears have no reason to be. Elizabeth Bennet, from the day you helped me to climb down that tree you improved my life in so many ways. You are like a sister to me (never tell Georgiana I said that). And even if we have been parted for quite some years, I do not need to have you in front of me to tell that you have grown up to be a beautiful, witty, intelligent and amazing woman. And I am very proud of you. _

_In order to deserve your forgiveness for my absence at your wonderful party, a present is coming with this letter. I know what you are thinking, but no, this time is a real present. No mud cakes or flower crowns.  
Serious stuff in here: when my mother accidentaly found it she thought I was secretly courting someone, imagine that. _

_But I thought it was only appropriate for you to have this, i thought it would compliment your eyes.  
You are a women now. _

_Happy birthday, my precious Lizzy._

_Will_

 

 

_Will,_

_Have you lost your mind? I can’t accept this bracelet. It is a real jewelery piece, made out of real stones! It must have costed you a fortune. How could you afford it? Fitzwilliam Wickam, have you sold your telescope to get me this? If you have, I swear to God I will come to Derbyshire and choke some sense back in you. Truly, I love it, it’s beautiful, but I cannot accept it._

_The party was so much fun. It was just like Jane’s party, if not better._  
I danced so much, with my sisters, and with two officers, as well. I stomped on one’s foot, and the other could barely look me in the eye.  
Nonetheless, it was nice to discover that with a pretty dress on and a nice hairdo, I can get just as much attention as Jane does. And after your letter, I am not so scared anymore. I will do just fine. 

_Thank you, for you wonderful words. I cannot even say how grateful I am for your friendship and constant support.  
I am still sending the bracelet back, though. _

_Lizzy_

 

 

_Lizzy,_

_I pour my heart out to you, and all I get in return are reprimands for the money I spent. You are unbelievable.  
I assure you, I would never sell my telescope, not even for you. So you do not need to worry about that. And it wasn’t that expensive, really. Just keep it, please. _

_William_

 

_***_

 

_Dear William,_

_Kitty caught the fever. She’s been in bed for a week now, and I am getting worried._  
We all are, my mother is on the verge of a nervous breakdown (nothing new, really). The only reasonable one is my father. He has always been the calm one. sometimes I wonder how he could survive in my house, sorrounded by women, for all these years.  


_I hope your family is well._

_Your very worried friend,  
Lizzy _

 

 

_Dear Lizzy,_

_You need not to worry, my father is actually in the same condition, in bed, but getting better. Give it two weeks, your sister will be as good as new, running around and back at her energetic self. There’s really nothing to be concerned about._

_Georgie turned ten a few days ago. You should hear her play the piano. She is so talented, and committed. She is still shy about it, but she has improved so much. Sometimes I hide behind the door and I just listen to her practice._

_William_

 

 

_Dear Will,_

_You were right, Kitty is back to her usual (annoying) self. Has your father gotten better?_

_I am sure your Georgiana is a wonder to listen to. I would love to meet her._  
Mary plays the piano as well. She is not really talented, but I admire her greatly: she is so diligent in her studies, even when she gets little results.  
Who knows, maybe Georgiana could teach her something. 

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear William,_

_Jane has just received a poem from an admirer. You won’t ever believe what he wrote. When Jane red it to me I struggled to keep a straight face.  
His verses where ridiculous. He even tried to sneak in a quote from Shelley, pretending it was a verse of his own. Obvioulsy, Jane a and I knew better. _

_I do admire him for his courage and commitment, although._

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Will,_

_Why aren’t you answering my letters? It’s been two months since you last wrote me._

_Are you on another buisness trip and forgot to tell me? You always tell me when you leave._

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_William,_

_Have I done or said something wrong? If I have, please tell me._

_Is your father still ill? Is Georgiana well? Are you well?  
_

_I am starting to get worried._

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear Will,_

_Happy twentieth birthday! I can’t believe you are getting so old, so fast.  
I too bought you a present, this time. A real one. It is not as beautiful as your bracelet, but I still am happy with it. I can’t wait for you to come back to Hertfortshire, so I can give it to you. _

_You are coming back, aren’t you?_

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear Will,_

_Lydia and Kitty, are gorwing up closer every day. I feel like Lydia has a terrible influence on Kitty: she was always so calm, and now the two of them are inseparable and trublesome. They are actually quite fun to watch and be around.  
Unlike Mary, Jane and I, they are very sociable and anxious to be out in society. They give my mother great satisfaction. _

_Please answer me._

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear William,_

_Peggy died today. Remember all the adventures we faced with her?  
It made me really sad, but I know she had a good life. I hope I was good company for her. _

_Are you still practicing your riding skills? If I recall well, last stime we rode I was still better than you. How many years ago was it?_

_I hope your family is faring well._

_I miss you._

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear Will,_

_My birthday was a week ago. You never missed one. You always write something for my on my birthday._

_Where are you? Have you and your family moved elsewhere?_

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear William,_

_I finally red some poetry written by that french poet, remember, the one you told me to read? Boudelaire?  
I still struggle with my french, but nonetheless tried to read it in the original language. I am not sure I understood all of it, but it was really enjoyable. The verses are so musical and melancholic. _

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Will,_

_My father bought a new horse! You should meet him, he is majestic, and very playful._

_Us sisters get to choose the name. Jane and I are studying greek mythology now, so she thought Pegasus was a good name. Only I red that Pegasus was born from the neck of the beheaded Medusa, the Gorgon who had snakes instead of hair (have you red about it?)._

_Since I find snakes quite unpleasant and scary creatures, I did not want our horse’s name to be related to any of that, so I thought the name Arion would be a better fit (in case you didn’t know, Arion was Herakles’ immortal horse)._

_Mary thought Peggy would do for this horse as well. She does not have much imagination._

_My other sisters do not care at all about the name._

_What would you suggest?_

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Dear Will,_

_Happy birthday.  
How the time flies. Twentyone, already. Seems like we first met yesterday. _

_How are you? How is your family faring? Georgiana? Your friend Charles? Where are you?_

_Lizzy_

 

_***_

 

_Will,_

_Come back to me, please._

_Lizzy_

 

 

 


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place three years after the last letter Lizzy wrote Darcy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooo.  
> I am so so sorry for this super late update. I had just issues with the plot, didn't really know how it would evolve. I will try to update faster but, as you probably can tell, I don't have the best track record (sry).  
> As some of you can probably tell, I took some dialogues from the movie, and I am probably gonna follow that plot. I love the book, but I feel the movie style and physical depiction of the characters suits my story better.
> 
> As always, this is probably not a perfectly accurate depiction of the 19th century's ways. And there might be some grammar errors. If you have any pointers for me, please let me know in the comments.  
> Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments, and is still following me. It means a lot. I know this is super short, forgive me plz. <3

By the time Lizzy had reached the front door, after her long refreshing walk, the house was already filled by voices and laughter.  
She could hear her mother ranting excitedly about something in her usual high pictched voice, following her exasperated father around the kitchen.

As soon as she walked through the door Lydia and Kitty stormed by squealing in excitement almost runnning over Jane, with her sewing kit in hand. «Lydia, Kitty!»

The Bennet house was always like that. Caotic, yes, sometimes so much it could drive one mad. But it was home.

Lizzy shrugged off her light spring vest and hang it by the door.

«What is all the fuss about?» she asked hardly managing tho hide her amusement.

Jane shrugged. «Apparently, a very respectable gentlemen is coming to the netherfield assembly»

«Jane, you forgot to mention he is rich and single!» shrieked Lydia jumping around.

The eldest Bennet rolled her eyes, but the light twinkle in them was hard to hide. This was very exciting news, for all of them.

Lizzy raised her eyebrows. «How rich, exctly?»

«Five thousand a year!» Kitty’s response made them all gasp.  
Lizzy’s mouth hang open. «No way! Are you a hundred percent sure he is coming?»

Mary’s piano exercise ceased abruptly and she suddenly appeared by Jane’s side. «Positive, yes. Papa just gave the news. Why do you care anyway? Richness and balls, for the matter, are highly overrated and frivolous things.»

Her cold answer didn’t tone down the other sisters’ mood. Lydia was perhaps the most excited one about the whole thing, after their mother.  
«And guess what, Liz?»  
«Tell me»  
«Mama said he will for sure marry one of us, we will be the most eligible young women at the assembly!»

Lizzy laughed and clapped her hands in excitement. She knew her mother was delusional: there was no such certainty, especially if the gentlemen in question was as rich as Kitty said. But the youger Bennet’s naive happiness made her smile with affection, so she didn’t say anything about it.

When her younger sisters were gone, she sat on the sofa next to Jane. «So, what is this gentlemen deal?»  
Jane put the cushion she was embroidering down on her lap. «His name is Mr. Bingley, he apparently returned to his mansion in Netherfield» she axplained, keeping her voice down to avoid catching their sisters’ boisterous attention. «From what I know he didn’t come here for quite some time. He will stay for a few months.»

Lizzy crossed her legs on the sofa, shifting her dress a little. «Well, let us hope he will be more handsome than the last _most eligible bachelor_ who visited.»

Both sisters laughed at the memory.

The gentlemen had come all the way from London, and the new of his arrival caused a general histeria among the young female population in Netherfield. It was whispered he was not only very rich, but the most handsome man in the county.

Being the bar set so high, the disappointment was instantaneous when the so called “most eligible, rich and handsome bachelor” made his appearence at the spring assembly looking quite insignificant, so thin as to look poor in health and clumsy in every way possible.

And those who were willing to oversee all of that in virtue of his richness and unwed status were twice disappointed, for the poor man had lost all his credibility and therefore his buisiness, following a scandalous rumor circulated by an opponent on him being involved in an omosexual affair.

«Do you really think we will ever have a chance with such a man?»

Jane’s question diverted Lizzy from her train of thought.

She turned arund to see her sister staring intently down at her embroidering work, seemengly very concentrated. But the small crease between her eyebrows gave her away. She was worried. And Lizzy could understand that.

Jane was now twenty and two, and still unwed. There were a few close calls, but it never came to an arrangement, leaving the poor girl disappointed and heartbroken.

They both knew they were just the right age to marry. But they had a close to inexistent dowery, and were too smart for their own good. Mr. Bennet had taught them well, but that particular quality was quick to scare man away. Women who had too much in their minds were not well seen.

Lizzy reached out to lay her hand over her sister’s urging her to look up. Jane’s eyes were deep, clouded by the echo of a well concealed fear that could never really be kept at bay.

«We have as many chances as anyone, Jane.»  
Lizzy spoke the words with conviction, although not at all sure of what se was promising, determined to cheer her sister up.  
«He came here and accepted the invitation to the assembly. That surely means he is in serach of a bride. And you are the most beautiful women in the county. You probably have more chances to catch his eye than any of us have.»

Jane rolled her eyes. «Oh, stop now, liz.»

No matter what might have happend Lizzy knew, she just had this comforting certainty, they would always be there for one another. Jane and she, they understood eacother and nothing in the world would have changed that. They were in this, whatever this was, together.

«Come», Lizzy stood up abruptly and held her hand out to her sister. «I think we ought to go to the market and buy some ribbons, if we want to impress this Mr. Bingley»

Their mother was there in an instant, appearing at their side out of nowhere.«What a wonderful idea Jane, my dear! See, Lizzy, your sister does have her priorities in order, you should take after her».

Before Jane could say anything in her defense, ever the selfless one, Lizzy couldn’t help but snort loudly right in front of her mother.

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes grew wide in disbelief.

«Elizabeth Bennet, did you just _snort_ at your _mother_?»

Lizzy tried - she _really_ did - not to laugh, pursed her lips as tight as she could. But when she heard Jane trying to stifle a giggle faking a cough, right behind her, she could not keep it anymore and started to laugh.

«Mama, I am sorry, I did not mean to...» she tried to make up for her mistake in between giggles that shook her whole body, but it was of no use.

Mrs. Bennet turned her indignant face towards the dining room, where her husband was trying to alienate himself and read a paper.

«Mr. Bennet, your daughter has no manners!» She bellowed, drammaticly pointing at Lizzy.  
The poor man raised his head just for a second, gaze flickering between his wife and his daughter, sighed, and resumed his reading.

This was going to be, as always, a very long day.

 

***

 

The assembly that night was alight with laughter and lively music, everyone was dancing, all women twirling in their colourful gowns. It was not a formal ball but, knowing that important visitors were coming, every woman in the room had their normally simple and plain assembly dresses adorned with ribbons, jewelery, or an intricate hairdo.

In a corner of the hall, with an advantage point of view on the doors in case the infamous Mr. Bingley came in unnoticed - _As if_ , thought Mr. Bennet to himself dropping an exasperated look down at his vigile wife -, stood Mrs. Bennet, occasionaly nodding in approval at the sight of four of her daughters (they could not convince Mary to dance, no matter how hard they tried) engaged in an _English Country Dance_.

As the music ended everyone turned to applaude the quintet of strings, then Lizzy and Jane pushed through the crowd, dragging their good friend Charlotte along.

All rosy cheeks and giggles from the dance, they sat on some spare chairs, looking around and smiling widely.

It was a wonderful evening.

They fixed eachother's hairdo for good mesure, and then sat back, catching their breath and enjoying the hall’s merry atmosphere.

Lizzy noticed Jane was fidgety, sitting on the edge of the chair.  
«If every man in the room does not end the evening in love with you, then I am no judge of beauty.» she stated matter of factly smiling at her sister.

Jane flashed her a smile «Or men.»

Lizzy shook her head laughing loudly over the music. «No, they are far too easy to judge.»

The eldest Bennet shoot her a disapproving look. «They're not _all_ bad.»  
Lizzy was always known to be the one with a fast tongue and cutting wit. And Jane adored those qualities about her sister. She only worried that not everyone would appreciate said qualities.

But Elizabeth was not in the mood to worry about her qualities/not qalities, and was quick to answer. «Humorless poppycocks, in my limited experience.»

«One of these days, Lizzy, someone will catch your eye», Jane warned her only sparing her a side glance. «And then you'll have to watch your tongue.»

Charlotte laughed at their exchange.

The room then grew suddenly quiet, all music and dancing stopped, and everyone moved their heads towards the entrance.  
The three young women got up from their sits and tryied to push through the crowd, to get a better look.

«It must be him» Charlotte whispered excited.

They all strained their necks and got on their tiptoes to try and catch a glipse of the new comer.  
There were three figures - a female and two males - in front of the main door, that stood up from the crowd both in poise and attire. They were obviously not from the countryside.

A man and the women were standing side by side.  
The man looked a bit embarrassed, in a way Lizzy found almost immediatly endearing. He looked around sparing a smile and a nod for everyone who met his eyes.

The women beside him resembled him both in phisyque and dressing style, but not in character. She wore a pale red gown that complimented her figure and got all the women staring in envy, and stood impossibly straight, carrying herself gracefully. But her icy eyes, which she used to stare down everyone as if they were insects, held nothing graceful in them.

The third figure was the tallest out of the three.  
The man had his impassible eyes trained on an indefinite point in front of him and looked like he wished to be anywhere but where he was standing.

Mr. Lucas, - Charlotte’s father -, who was hosting the assembly, approached them and formally bowed his head, proceeding to lead them throught the crowd.

Lizzy leaned close to Charlotte. «So which of the painted peacockes is our Mr Bingley?» she wispered.

«He’s on the right» she replied. «And on the left its his sister.»

«And the man with the quizzical brow?»

«That is his good friend, Mr. Darcy.»

Elizabeth studied the man in question. He looked dark and mysterious, and undoubtedly, very handsome. He vaguely reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t quite say of whom.

«He looks miserable, poor soul» she observed with sarcasm, watching as Mr. Lucas tried to catch the man’s attention without success.

But Charlotte was well informed on the man's wealth. «Miserable he might be, but poor he most certainly is not.»

«Tell me.»

«Ten thousand a year». She gasped at the numbers her friend wispered in her ear. «And he owns half of the Derbyshire.»

Lizzy couldn’t help herself but slip in a snarky remark. «The miserable half?»

At that they all laughued quietly. Even Jane couldn’t keep serious.

They were shushed by a woman near by as the quartet passed close to them.

Dropping in a light courtesy, Lizzy couldn’t help but peak between her bangs, and caught that Mr. Darcy glancing at her fleetingly and than turning away just as quickly. Or maybe she had just imagined it.

As the new comers reached the other side of the hall, the music started again and everyone resumed their dancing.

It did not take long for Mrs. Bennet to make her way to her dancing daughters and drag the ones in her reach - and a very unwilling Mr. Bennet - in front of Mr. Lucas and his guests. She looked at the man expectantly, while Mr. Bennet shot the man an apologetic look.

Mr. Lucas cleared his throath. 

«Mr. Bingley, my eldest daughter you know.» He pointed at Charlotte and then introduced the whole Bennet family, while the poor young man tried to keep up with him.

Focused on the exchange, Elizabeth missed the way the other man, Mr. Darcy, shifted nervously when her name was spoken.

Mr. Bingley was about to say something but, of course, Mrs. Bennet didn’t let him. «It is a plesure. I have two other but they are already dancing.»  
Mr. Bingley nodded in understandment. «I am delighted to make your aquaintance.»

He had a kind smile, Lizzy couldn’t help but notice. She also noticed that his gaze was mostly trained on Jane, who was now blushing lightly.  
Elizabeth looked down at her feet trying to hide a smile.

Then Mr. Lucas carried on with his introduction. «And may I introduce Miss Bingley» he gestured at the women who courtesied. 

«And Mr. Dracy of Derbyshire»

Right after the man bowed his head lightly, Lizzy caught his gaze again and gasped.

Her first instinct was to pick up her gowns and run, but she found herself frozen in place.

Because she knew those eyes.

Those blue, melancholic, intense eyes with a brown hint in them. She would have recognized them anywhere, anytime, even in an ocean of people.

 _It cannot be_ , she thought to herself.

But then, when he reciprocated her gaze, time seemed to stop.

Elizabeth couldn’t hear the music, or her mother’s ranting, or Jane’s confused stare on her.

Because, she could tell, he recognized her as well.

It couldn’t be, _but it was_.

Will.

Then Mr. Bingly patted him on the shoulder to catch his attention.  
The moment he averted his gaze Lizzy was shook from her trance.

«Excuse me» she said with the little voice she could still find in her, then she turned and walked away as fast as she could, ignoring Mrs. Bennet calling her name.

Ignoring the stare that was burning holes into her back.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elizabeth is pissed.  
> This picks up were the last chapter ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surpiriiiiseee!  
> Who would have thought I had an early update up my sleeve, ey?  
> Anyways, this follows step by step the ball as it is portraied in the 2005 movie. But not all chapters will be like this, fear not.  
> As always, this is probably not a perfectly accurate depiction of the 19th century's ways. And there might be some grammar errors. If you have any pointers for me, please let me know in the comments.  
> Thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments, and is still following me. It means a lot, and it really motivates me to write on!  
> Hope you enjoy.

_How could he?_

How _dare_ _he_ disappear for years, and then reappear all of a sudden an mortify her pride in _one_ _hour_ of time? It was more than she could bear.

 

The assembly room became her cage that night, leaving her no place to run. Anywhere she went, when she thought she was safe, he would always appear in the corner of her eye without any warning.

So she had hidden.

A decorative curtain had fell awkwardly on a settee, creating the perfect hiding spot for her.

When she had been sure nobody could see her, she crawled in the small space and sat, finally taking a deep breath.

Away from prying eyes she had clutched her knees to her chest, trying to relieve the pain she felt, the void that was growing in the pit of her stomach. She had leaned her cheek on her knees and tried to swallow the lump in her throat and even her breathing. She had realized her heart was beating wildly and her skin was coated by a thin layer of sweat under her many items of chlothing.

«Here you are!»

She had jumped when she heard Charlotte’s voice.

«I’ve been looking for you for hours.»

Lizzy had tried to say something, while her friend reached her in her secret spot, but her mouth was dry. Fortunately her friend had something to tell her that had given her time to recover. «You should see Jane, she is radiant!»

Elizabeth had no need to guess the reason for that. «Mr. Bingley asked her to dance, did he not?»

«Yes!» Charlotte giggled. «He asked her for the first and second set, you should have seen her face!»

Lizzy had smiled weakly at the image that formed into her mind. She was so very happy for her sister, and felt sorry she hadn’t been there with her to witness and share that important moment.

«Whatever are you doing here, Lizzy?» Charlotte had asked as if she had suddenly remembered the reason why she had been looking for her friend. «You disappeared after my father introduced us to Mr. Bingley, are you‐‐»

The two girls had been interrupted by a familiar voice nearby. «I’ve never seen so many pretty girls in my life!»

Charlotte had turned around to peak from their hidden spot, than turned again to face Elizabeth.

 _Mr_. _Bingley_ , she had mouthed to her friend, then covered her mouth to stifle her giggles.

Lizzy had tried to smile, but she was more concerned about whom the man was talking to.

«You were dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.» A deep voice replied.

Elizabeth had silently motioned Charlotte to peak again, and the girl had complied and turned around, only to confirm her fears. _Mr_. _Darcy_ , she mouthed.

Lizzy’s heart had picked up it’s beating again.

«She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld!». Mr. Bingley had spoken the words with such convinction, it had managed to make Lizzy smile.

Charlotte too had smiled broadly, and Elizabeth couldn’t help but reciprocate her friend’s excitement, despite her growing uneasiness. Her sister had truly managed to struck this very agreeable man.

«But her sister Elizabeth is very agreeable.»

Lizzy froze when her name was spoken. Charlotte’s eyes widened and she hit her lightly on the knee, stifling a giggle again. Lizzy had tried once more to force smile: she knew she had made out Mr. Bingley characther quite well. He was indeed kind and naive. But mostly, she was anxiously waiting for the other man’s reply.

Her heart sunk.

«Barely tollerable, I daresay. But not handsome enough to tempt me.»

Had he really just said that? Had she imagined the harshness in the voice of the man she supposedly _didn_ ’ _t_ _even_ _know?_ How could his judgment on her be so severe? And since she actually _did_ know him, how could he say such things on her account after he already wronged her in so many ways?

«You’d better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles» Said Mr. Darcy. «You are wasting your time with me.»

 _Oh_ , _he sure_ _is_ , had thought Lizzy. _Just as_ _I_ _used_ _to_ _do_.

 _But I_ _won_ ’ _t anymore_.

Her uneasiness had started to build and transform into something else.

Rage.

«Count your blessings Lizzy» Had said Charlotte catching her attention again. «If he liked you, you’d have to talk to him.»

 _How could_ _him?_

Lizzy had squared her shoulders, and she had felt her tongue loosen again.

«Precisely» She had replied pointedly. «As it is, I wouldn’t have danced with him for all of Derbyshire, let alone the miserable half.»

Charlotte had laughed at her reply, and Lizzy followed suit. She felt the pit in her stomach slowly filling again. She would not hide anymore.

The two girls crawled out of their hiding spot. Mr. Wickam ‐ or Mr. Darcy, or whatever his name was ‐ had no idea of the storm that was coming for him.

 

***

 

She went back to her party, joining her mother, Jane and Mr. Bingley, apologizing for her sudden departure.

When Jane squeezed her elbow and looked at her questioningly she lied.

«I felt a bit dizzy after the dance, I looked for a seat and refreshed myself» She whispered. «I am well now.»

Lizzy had never lied to Jane in such a blunt way, and she could see her blue eyes bore into her own to see if she was speaking the thruth. But the younger Bennet looked away and started to get better acquainted with Mr. Bingley, who was very easy to speak to.

«Your friend, Miss Lucas, is the most amusing young woman!» Was stating the man in question, smiling broadly.

Elizabeth smiled back to him, happy to talk about Charlotte. «Oh yes, I adore her.»

«It is a pity that she is not more handsome.»

Lizzy turned to her mother, staring at her in disbelief. «Mama!»

She couldn’t believe her mother was being so blunt and inappropriate.

Mr. Darcy joined them in that moment, sliding silently into the conversation. Elizabeth ignored him pointedly, determined not to let his presence have any influence on her mood.

Mrs. Bennet went on, unperturbed. «But Lizzy would never admit that she’s plain.»

The woman went on talking, while Mr. Bingley listened to her in an uncomfortable silence, about how it was _her_ _Jane_ who was considered the beauty of the county. She even ranted about that gentlemen who wrote her some ridicolous verses when she was only fifteen.

Jane was desperately trying to put an end to her mother’s chatter, and Elizabeth promptly assisted her, anxious to shut the woman up.

«An that put pay to it» She interfered. «I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love.»

Mr. Bingly laughed, and Jane shot her a grateful look.

«I thought poetry was the food of love.»

Elizabeth turned to the man who spoke the words in disbelief, as did everyone involved in the conversation.

 _So the_ _socially awkward_ _peacock does_ _speak_ , thought Elizabeth to herself.

But her confidence did not waver.

«Of a fine stout love it may» She replied surely. She knew he was fond of poetry, and made sure her statement was as sarcastic as possible. «But if it is only a vague inclination I am convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.»

Jane looked at her sister wide eyed, while Mr. Bingley laughed again, not really understanding the quick exchange.

Mr. Darcy talked quickly, conscious of the fact that many eyes were on him. «So what would you reccomend, to encourage affection?» 

Elizabeth had been waiting for this. She flashed him a dazzling smile, and the man shifted uncomfortably on the spot.

«Dancing.» Was Lizzy’s prompt answer. She talked slowly, making sure evry word was clear. «Even if one’s partner is _barely tollerable_.»

After that she curtesied, never lowering her eyes from the man in front of her, than turned around and walked away.  
She wasn’t running this time. Her stride was sure and proud, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

As she walked out the assembly room, to get a breath of fresh air, she recalled the image of Mr. Darcy’s face at her words, and she did so with great pride. He had been caught off guard and ‐ Elizabeth could tell ‐ felt really uncomfortable.

He had realized she had heard his unkind words, and she made clear to him she hadn’t been touched by them.

While that was what she wanted to make herself believe, that she did not care one bit, his word had struck her.

Lizzy found herself wondering how the sweet boy of her childhood memories had become such an unpleasant man. She found herself wondering about the reason why he had lied to her about his family name, and how many other lies he might have told her.

She found herself wondering too much for her own liking.

«Miss Bennet.»

She gasped, caught by surprise by the deep voice.

Elizabeth turned around, and a hand went up to her chest, as if to tame her wild heartbeat.

Although she wouldn’t have needed to turn around to know who that voice belonged to.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of POV.  
> Feat. Lizzy is pissed pt.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaassss, I might be getting the hang of these weekly updates!  
> I had fun writing this, but it was also quite difficult for me to show the age gap in the flashback. Also to not make Darcu sound too desperate and suicidal. We all know he is a socially awkward poor sod, but I didn't want to make his POV too drammatic, if you know what I mean.  
> As always, I'm no expert of this age and society's ways and traditions, so this is probably not a perfecty accurate depiction of it. If you have any pointers for me, please comment, I love reading your feedback.  
> Hope you enjoy the chapter!

The moment he passed near her, he knew it was her.

She had grown so much, but somethings did not change.

Those eyes, green and full of wonder, were the same eyes he gazed in for the first time when he was twelve.

Her smile. A little uneven, the left side of her upper lip curling up a little more then the right side. The way her small nose scrunched up when she laughed.

She had changed, but she was the same.

From the moment he entered the room and saw her he had no doubt.

And he knew he was in big trubles. But he had no idea of the extent of said trubles.

He thought maybe he could’ve been lucky enough not to be introduced to her.

Oh, how he was wrong.

When the whole Bennet family paraded in front of him, he had tried to point his gaze anywhere but on her.

He knew he had changed a lot. He had lost all his childhood awkward traits, his once plump body parts were now flat and lean. His hair had grown darker with time, his face was no more round but oval, some sharp edges in their rightful places. And he knew she knew not his real name.

He thought he could maybe get away with it, but he had underestimated her.

The moment his name was spoken and the whole female pack had it’s eyes pointed on him, he _had to look at her_.

And it was plain to see. She had recognized him.

A hundred emotions crossed her face: surprise, astonishment, happiness, fear, confusion, disappointment, anger, disdain.

Some of them he couldn’t quite read.

Which was new for him.

 

***

 

_He peeked at her above his book._

_She looked very absorbed, her forehead wrinkling and her hands gripping tenaciously the dusty cover._

_But he knew better. He could read her like an open book._

_«What have I done?»_

_«Whatever do you mean?» Her eyes never left the pages of her book, as she asked the question._

_They were under their favourite tree. Fitzwilliam had brought a large cloth for them to sit on, and books._

_He rolled his eyes._

_«You should not answer a question with another question, Lizzy. And you cannot hide things from me. In fact, you can’t hide things from anyone» He corrected himself. «What goes on in your mind plays out on your face without fail, one might as well know what you think even before you do yourself.»_

_She didn’t look up at him once during his little speech, her eyes firmly set on the old yellow pages. «I may answer a question however I see fit, you know?»_

_Now he was certain he had done something to upset her._

_He closed his book, unintentionally causing it to snap. She jumped a little, startled by the sudden sound. But that had at least managed to get her attention._

_«Was it something I said?». He tried to think of his frequent, harsh and unasked for opinions. He was working on it, he knew he wasn’t too delicate, at times. Elizabeth had made him realize that, obviously._

_«It's what I’ve said about Peggy, is it not?» He tried to guess._

_The day before he had joked about how Peggy’s black and white spots made her look more like a cow then a horse. He knew Elizabeth was very fond of her, he had no intention to upset her, just to make her laugh._

_He searched his mind for any reaction from her he might have missed. But she had laughed at that, if he recalled correctly._

_«Will you leave it, Fitzwilliam?»_

_And now his full christian name. Something was definitely wrong._

_«Whatever I might have said or done, you must know that I did not mean to upset you.»_

_At that she sighed and closed her book slowly._

_«I am aware.» She finally looked up at him. «But that does not mean you didn’t mean what you said.»_

_He opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say._

_«Me being twelve is not a synonymous of me being a fool, you know?»_

_Now he had definitely lost her._

_«I do not know what you are talking about» He finally admitted, defeated._

_Elizabeth paused for a moment, not really sure if to voice her thoughts or to keep silent. But then she went with the former. «You said I am smarter than you thought I would be.»_

_He scratched the back of his head and looked up, trying to remember his words and the situation they were spoken in. Lizzy could almost see the wheels turning in his head._

_«I did.» He confirmed then. «I fail to see how that could have offended you.»_

_Elizabeth widened her eyes at his obliviousness. Was he really not able to see it?_

_«You basically said you thought I was a silly goose, Will!»_

_He lifted his hands up in defence, surprised by her sudden outburst. «It was meant as a compliment!»_

_«I dare any human being with reason to look at your sentence by any angle, and then have the courage to tell me it was meant in a flattering way.»_

_Fitzwilliam was starting to tire of her dramatic ways. She could be so unreasonable, at times. He might have wanted to apologize, before, but now he was not sure he had to. «Well, now you are actually acting like a twelve years old foolish girl.»_

_Elizabeth looked surprised. How dare him answer back when she was so right? It was as plain as day! She was about to voice her thoughts but he was faster._

_«Whyever would I be here with you, of all the places I could be, reading -of all the things I could be doing with a silly goose!- ?» _

_Now it was Elizabeth's turn to be at loss of words._

_«Maybe I don’t spend time with you because I want to feel superior by patronazing the silly goose of the county.» Heat had started to rise in his cheeks for his frenetic speech, and he was waving his hands around frantically. «Maybe I spend time with you because I enjoy to do so, and ought not to explain you why. If that is not enough for you, if you think so low of me, I am not the one at fault.»_

_He stood up and started to walk._

_«Wait!»_

_Fitzwilliam turned around. Elizabeth had stood too, and was now looking at the ground, fidgeting. She mumbled something he couldn’t quite make out._

_«What was that, Elizabeth?» He asked, now on the verge of his patience._

_«I am sorry.» Heat raised in her cheeks as soon as she spoke the words._

_He knew she hated to admit she was the one at fault._

_«I apologize.» She repeated when he didn’t speak. «I do not know why I behaved in such a distasteful way. It might be because I know you are older then I am.»_

_Her admissions were softening his rage quickly. A small smile played on his lips._

_«I might be afraid that you will eventually look for a more mature kind of company, that my girlish ways will not entertain you for much longer.» Her eyes were getting glassy, and Fitzwilliam started to feel the familiar pang of guilt in the pit of his stomach. He knew not what to do, so he listened to his gut. He did what he would had done had it been Gigi in front of him. He walked back to her and gathered her in his arms._

_She was so small. Sometimes, because of her cutting wit and impressive intelligence, he forgot how young she was._

_«Lizzy, you are not here to entertain me. Entertainment I could easily find at the theater, at a circus, at a ball.» He said awkwardly stroking her back in the attempt to soothe the small sobs she was trying to hold back. «You are here because you spared a silly twelve years old boy a broken leg, in a very warm summer some years back. And from that day on you never stopped to amuse him, to annoy him, to amaze him and teach him new things.»_

_She laughed weakly and he ruffled her hair._

_«You are smart and very far from girlish. You have a delightful sharp wit and that constantly surprises me, in a young girl such as yourself. You are the smartest girl in my acquaintance.»_

_«That’s because you don’t have any girls among you acquaintances, Will» She had sniffled, looking up at him with a small smile._

_«And what would you know about that, pray tell.»_

_«You never told me of any.» He had looked away feigning embarrassment, just to mess with her a little._

_«There is no other young woman in your acquaintance, is there?»_

_He smiled. «Should we go back to our readings?»_

_«Will, are you courting someone?» She asked, wide eyed._

_«I am not out in society yet, remember?»_

_She had covered her mouth with a hand, giggling in excitement. «A secret courtship? Will! I never thought you the romantic type.»_

_Now, this was getting out of hand. «Lizzy, there is no courtship going on.»_

_«What is her name?» She immediatly took it back. «No don’t tell me. Mistery is a fundamental element in a romantic plot.»_

_What was she rambling about? Where did she get those ideas? He made sure not to give her to read any silly romantic novels, in order not to fill her head with romantic trivialities._

_She had noticed his gaze and started picking at her hands, trying to hide a smile. «Mother does not keep a careful eye on her books. I might have took advantage of that.»_

_Fitzwilliam had tried to voice a reprimand speech on how improper her behaviour had been, but she stopped him before he could even begin. «I want to know everything about her!»_

_He rolled his eyes._

_God help him. It would take a long time for him to convince her there was no courtship going on._

 

 

_They did not know that was going to be their last summer together._

 

***

 

She ran.

She turned her back, and in a second, she was gone.

He could not tell why he freezed like that, why he didn’t say anything, why he didn’t say that they were already acquainted with eachother.

He did not know.

And then, when he was looking for her, Bingley had came around. He was ecstatic because of the _blonde angel_ he was dancing with, and his enthusiasm slightly bothered Mr. Darcy. His friend was keeping him from his task.

When he managed to finally get rid of him, he resumed his search, without success.

And then there she was again, laughing with Bingley, smiling at her sister, as if nothing had ever happened.

Mrs. Bennet clearly thought it to be her duty to keep the conversation going, much to hers interlocutor’s displease, obviously talking about her eldest daughter’s beauty.

The Bennet girl in question looked thoroughly embarrassed when Mrs. Bennet talked about the verses she received from a young suitor, but Fitzwilliam couldn’t tell if she was only playing the part or was genuinely displeased by her mother’s praises.

And then Elizabeth had intervened.

«And that put pay to it.» She said. «I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love.»

He remembered her cutting wit, but her statement caught him by surprise still. She was so fond of poetry and romantic novels as a young girl.

«I thought poetry was the food of love.» He blurted out.

He had talked before thinking it through, the words came out of their own accord. And he immensely regretted it, when he saw all eyes pointed on him.

She looked surprised too, but recomposed herself quickly and answered back in a firm tone. «Of a fine stout love it may. But if it is only a vague inclination I am convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.»

And so he realized, she was not a girl anymore.

In front of him stood a beautiful, capable and intelligent young woman, and he knew not when all that had happened.

And he hadn’t been there to witness it.

She had a strange twinkle in her eyes he couldn’t quite recognize or explain, but he could tell she was playing with him. And not in a friendly way. He could see the rage that was hiding just underneath her words. Then again, he couldn’t blame her for that.

Darcy thought, at this stage, his best bet was to nod and remain silent. But then again, his body did not listen to his mind.

«And what would you recommend, to encourage affection?»

And the next thing she said, he thought - _he hoped_ - he had imagined it.

«Dancing, even if one’s partner is _barely tollerable_.»

She curtesied, turned her back, and then she was gone again.

She had heard him.

Elizabeth had heard what he had said to Bingley, Darcy realized horrified.

He admitted to himself, he maybe could have choosen some different words, but dismissal was the most effective way to get rid of his friend. How could he know?

He waited for a few minutes, so it wouldn’t be evident that he was going after her, then excused himself and left.

He had to find her. He had to talk to her, to explain himself.

He looked for her everywhere, and then, when he peeked outside a large window, she saw her small frame in the darkness.

Darcy walked out the doors, but halted abruptly.

What could he tell her? Was there anything at all he could tell her? After all, it was him who had abandoned her, not the other way around. Could he explain that? He did not possess that kind of knowledge. But he decided to face her anyways.

He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath and moved forward.

 

***

 

«Miss Bennet.»

Elizabeth winced and jumped, turning around. She had been caught by surprise.

«You shall never do that again, sir.» She said trying to even out her breathing. «A gentleman should know better than to creep behind a woman’s back.»

«I apologize, I did not mean to startle you.»

She was not ready to face him. She did not want to. Who did he think he was, taking away the choice from her?

She could not help but notice how much he had changed. He was a full grown man now, and she had trubles reconciling the image of young William with the gentleman in front of her.

 _Gentleman_ , she scoffed at herself. A gentleman would not have behaved as he did.

She could tell he was well aware of her scrutiny by the way we was awkwardly shifting his body weight from one foot to another.

«Miss Bennet?»

Her name brought her back to the current situation.

She turned her back to him, trying to hide the hurt and betrayal she felt. Things, she knew, he would read off her face in no time.

« _Miss Bennet_.» she repeated, a bitter smile on her lips. «When was the last time you reffered to me as such. Were you twelve? Thirteen?»

«Miss Bennet, I have come here to - »

«To _what_ , sir?» She interrupted him. She had turned again to face him, and her eyes were ablaze with restrained rage. «To explain the reason why you pretended not to know who I was? Oh no, wait, I know. You are here to explain me the fanciful artistic process behind the invention of your fake name, aren’t you, _Mr. Wickam_?»

He almost stumbled back at her last words, as if they phisically had hit him. The feeling was close enough. She had spatted them out with such bitterness and disdain, it got him wondering how could such a small body carry so much hatered within.

«Or are you here to explain to me the laws of attraction? Pray tell, which kind of woman would be _handsome enough to tempt you?»_

«Miss Bennet» he countered. «Mr. Bingley was stepping out of his boundaries and asking personal questions, and I - »

«Oh, it is an unsuitable assertion for a _friend_ to tell _his friend_ that a woman is very agreeable, so unsuitable it is necessary for said other friend to dismiss such outrageous ideas by humiliating the woman in question? Please, if I am wrong, would you be so kind to illustrate me the thought process behind such an act, beacause I am at the end of my wit.»

Darcy stepped forward, trying to stop her torrential flooding of words from submerging him.

«Please, I did not - » He stammered. «I had no intention of upsetting you, Miss.»

They were now close enough to stare into eachother’s eyes, and Fitzwilliam allowed her to do so, so she could see the honesty behind his words.

She did.

But it didn’t really matter, not after all he had done.

Her tone softened, as did her unforgivivng eyes.

«But you did.» she replied, mentally cursing her voice for cracking in such a pathetic way. «Repeatedly so.»

Fitzwilliam stepped forward. «I know.»

He did not lower his gaze, but she did. «You diserted me.»

«I know.»

She knew her eyes were starting to water, and she would poke them out with her own hands before he could see that.

«Have a nice evening, Mr. Darcy.» She curtesied and went back inside, leaving him alone in front of a night with no stars nor moon.

Leaving him alone with his regrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I reached 100 kudos!  
> Thanks y'aaaaaall! Thanks to all my readers and to who spends time commenting and letting me know they enjoy this...thing. It really means the world to me, and I hope never to disappoint you.  
> I love youuuuuu


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ZAN ZAAAAN.  
> Ready or Nah? The Bad Boy W it's back in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'aaaaalll. I might be getting the hand of this weekly update :)  
> This is a light chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you will enjoy it.  
> As always, I'm no expert of 19th century's ways, so you might find some things that aren't exactly accurate historically and culturally speaking. If you know better, please tell me, I'm really interested.

«I cannot believe he actually said that!»

Jane and Lizzy sat on their beds, and the eldest Bennet's face, only barely visible in the dim lighting of candles, wore a shocked expression.

«Oh, I can.»

A few days had passed from the ball, and the main topic of their conversation (and nearly _any_ conversation held in the house) had always been Mr. Bingley.  
How handsome he was, how proper, how rich, how kind and gallant. Never had Jane had so many praises to bestow on anyone, let alone someone of the opposite sex.

Elizabeth had never seen her sister so deeply impressed by anyone, and was very happy to indulge in such conversation, avoiding to point out the flaw ‐ apparently the _only_ flaw  ‐ the gentleman was afflicted with: his choice of acquaintances.

She had brought up the topic a few days later, when Jane had questioned her about her behaviour towards _“that_ _Darcy gentleman”,_ while braiding her sister’s hair for the night.

«How ungracious of him! He did seem quite ‐‐»

Jane seemed to be searching for the right word, but Elizabeth anticipated her. «Unpleasant? Snobbish? Unsociable? Despicable?»

«‐‐ Supercilious. But I would not have guessed him capable of uttering such a slander.»

Lizzy laughed at her sister’s countenance.

«Leave it to me, a _barely_ _tollerable_ _looking_ woman, to improve our family connections.» She snorted. «Anyways, it is most unlikely that we will ever have to behold eachother’s sight again. _Thank_ _God_.»

Elizabeth was playing with the hem of her nightgown, when she noticed her sister was studying her carefully.

«What?»

«I don’t think you are being honest.»

«Whatever are you talking about, Jane?»

«I saw the way you looked at him when he entered the room.»

«As if I already hated him?»

«As if you liked him.»

Lizzy stared at her sister in disbelief. Why would she think something like that? It was the furthest thing from truth.  
And besides, she never told her sister about the letters. Well, she did, but she never disclosed the name of the sender.

«Come on, Liz.» Pushed Jane. «You have to admit he is very handsome.»

« _Barely_ _tollerable_ » She muttered, and her sister raised her eybrows.

«Ah, Mr. Darcy.» Sighed Lizzy, leaning an elbow on her crossed legs. «I could have easily overlooked his ill appearance in virtue of his immense fortune, had not his pride wounded my vanity.»

Jane threw a pillow to her face, laughing.

 

***

 

The letter arrived the next morning, when the Bennet family gathered to break fast, causing a collective frenzy around the table.

It was meant for Jane, from Caroline Bingley. It was an invitation for Jane to join her for lunch. Unfortunately, as written in the letter, Mr. Bingley wouldn’t be attending.

Jane tried to keep her emotion at bay, but Lizzy could see she was barely able to hold back her smile, and her hands were trembling.

«May I go, Mama?»

Mrs. Bennet was not as pleased as her daughter. She snatched the letter from Jane’s hands and let her eyes wonder between the lines. «He won’t be attending?»

«Mama, can I take the carriage?»

The eldest Bennet’s attempt to catch her mother’s attention were vain, as the woman was still reading the letter, in denial of the words Miss Bingley had written. «How impolite of him not to join!»

Lizzy intervened, in support of her sister. «Mama, the carriage for Jane.» She pushed.

The woman finally laid the written pages on the table, directing her attention on her meal once again.

«Most certainly not. She will go on horseback.»

Just as Mrs. Bennet spoke the words, a thunder resounded outside, so lound it seemed to shake the house. Jane and Elizabeth both stared at their mother wide eyed, and exclaimed almost at the same time. «Horseback?!»

Mrs. Bennet nodded, pleased with her choice, as another thunder rang out. 

Kitty and Lydia started to giggle. Jane looked pleadingly towards her father, but his face was hidden behind his paper, while he pretended to read.

Even so, Jane would have never turned down the invitation.

She asked Lizzy to help her do her hair, chose the most suitable dress for the occasion, paired it with an elegant hat, and then left.

The downpour began just a few minutes after her departure.

Lizzy was outside, fulfilling her daily gardening duties, when it started. A low thunder rumbled in the sky, and light drizzle refreshed her face as she looked up. When rain started to pour, Lizzy ran to save the dressing items that were hang to dry in the backyard, than pounded her fist on the wooden door on the back.

Mr. Bennet opened the door to let his laughing, soaking wet daughter inside.

She gently dabbed her face and hair with a cloth, so she swoldn’t drip on the floor.

«There.» Mrs. Bennet was washing the dishes, contently looking outside the window. «Now she’ll have to stay the night. Exactly as I predicted.»

Mr. Bennet too looked outside the window, his mouth open. «Good grief, woman. Your skills in the art of matchmaking are positively occult.»

Elizabeth laughed at her mother taking pride in her predicting skills.

«Though I don't think, Mama, you can reasonably take credit for making it rain.»

Mrs. Bennet only waved her off with an impatient motion of her hand.

 

Once the sun peeked again between the gray clouds, Elizabeth thought it was time to go to the village to purchase some items her father had asked her, and her younger sister insisted to accompany her.

«Lidya! Kitty!» Lizzy called out for them at the bottom of the staircase. «We must go, at once!»

She noticed her sister’s were taking longer than usual to get ready, but she didn’t spend time wondering what was causing the delay.

Although as soon as they arrived, she couldn’t be at loss of the reason why.

The Milita was marching in the village to the rhythm of drums.

«How did you know?» She asked Kitty over the drum’s sound, while her sister dramatically waved her handkerchief to the man in uniform.

«I have my sources.»

Lizzy laughed and turned again, enjoying the parade.

When the show ended the Bennet sisters went back to their task. With their baskets full of vegtables, cloths and gardening items, they were ready to go back.

As Lizzy took out her handkerchierf to wipe her hands clean, a strong gust of wind blew trough the village, and the piece of cloth escaped her hands. She hurried to catch it, stopping herself from running after it in a most unladylike manner, when a lean hand picked it up from the ground.

«I believe this belongs to you, Miss.» A warm voice said.

Elizabeth looked up and tried to gain some composure, not wanting to look like a blushing schoolgirl.

But she probably did look like one, she thought, because in front of her stood an handsome man in a red uniform. _Very_ handsome.

«Thank you, sir.» She dropped in a light curtesy, trying to hide the color in her cheeks, than took the cloth he was handing back to her.

Lydia and Kitty caught up with her squealing. «Lizzy, did you drop it on purpose?»

Elizabeth was about to reprimand Lidya for her silly behaviour. She was jumping around the poor gentleman in a most improper way.

«Mr. Wickam is a leftenant!»

She thought she heard wrong.

_Wickam?_

Could it be ‐‐ Could he have any connections with William?

 _Mr_. _Darcy,_ she mentally corrected herself.

She tried to shake the thought off: there couldn’t be just one Mr. Wickam in all the county, could it? Maybe it was just a coincidence.

She knew she probably had a stunned expression on her face, and tried to hide it, while thinking of what to say.

But the man intervened before she could speak.

«An enchanted leftenant.» He gallantly specified with a slight bow of his head.

Elizabeth couldn’t help herself but smile, and she knew she was probably blushing again.

He had very intense eyes, she couldn’t help but notice. He had blonde hair and a firm jaw, and Elizabeth tried to stop her thoughts from making her blush again.

 _He_ _was_ _handsome,_ _alright_.

«We were just about to go look for some ribbons, weren’t we Lydia?»

Kitty’s question shaked her from her thoughts. What were her sisters doing?

The man in front of her smiled brightly. He also had a nice smile, Lizzy noted, besides sporting an overall likeable attitude.

He offered her his arm. «Maybe we shall all go looking for some ribbons together?»

The younger Bennets giggled and Lizzy, too, had a hard time trying to hide a smile. «We would love to, but we must go now.»

Lydia and Kitty looked at her in shock. «But, Liz!»

She shot them a warning glare.

«Maybe next time?» Asked Mr. Wickam with a hopeful note in his voice.

«Surely.» Lizzy replied without hesitation.

Maybe she should have waited more? Did she seem too eager?

«I will be waiting for you then, Miss Bennet.» He bowed again and smiled at her. She did the same, then turned her back to him and walked, followed by her sister’s.

«Are you out of your mind?» Lydia hissed in her ear. «He is an _officer_. A leftenant!»

 _So he_ _was_.

Lizzy shushed her, feeling the gentleman’ stare on her back.

She smiled.

That night she dreamed about him.

As dreadful to admit it as it was, she dreamed about Mr. Darcy too.

 

The next morning, another letter arrived. It was from Jane. She had fallen ill and was now tended by the Bingleys.

«This is ridicolous!» Elizabeth exclaimed after reading the letter outloud, trying to draw a reaction out of her mother.

Mr. Bennet took the letter from her to read it himslef. He huffed. «Well, if Jane does die, it will be a comfort to know she was in pursuit of Mr. Bingley.»

Mrs. Bennet didn’t even bother to refrain from her chores in order to respond. «People do not die of colds.»

«Though she might perish with the shame of having such a mother.»

Elizabeth's comment managed to get the desired effect, and Mrs. Bennet turned to her, fuming. But before the woman could say anything, Elizabeth stood and took her vest were it hang on the door.

«I must go to her.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reached 2000 hits. You guys are amazing, I love you, and I love to read your comments.  
> I also thank my silent readers.  
> All your support is aknowledged and very much appreciated.  
> <3 <3


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically, a lot of sexual tension an not so friendly banter (duh)  
> Oh and Caroline being her usual obnoxious self.

Lizzy loved to walk.

It was the best remedy for her trubles. It allowed her to ease her mind by letting it wander, to gift her lungs some fresh air and to discover some hidden spots fit for her reading sessions. In particular she liked to walk a few minutes before dawn and sunset, in order to witness the miracle of darkness and light chasing after eachother in a spectacle of colours.

She _needed_ to walk that day, for she knew she was about to face a particular someone she had no desire, nor was prepeared to meet.

 

***

 

«Dear Lord, Miss Elizabeth, did you walk here?» Was the first sentence Miss Bingley greeted her with as soon as she entered the room.

Mr. Darcy stood up abruptly and bowed his head, almost avoiding her gaze. He seemed nervous.

«I did.» Was Elizabeth’s answer. She looked around the room, waiting for someone to break the silence.

The house was majestic, she had to admit. She’d never been inside before. Although once, young Mr. Darcy and she, walked to the border of the residence, and Elizabeth stuck her nose between the gate’s bars to get a glimpse of the gardens. A maid had been walking around and they had to escape before she spotted them. Lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth had forgotten the current situation: Miss Bingley was looking at her questioningly (and quite judgmentally, if Elizabeth might have said so), and Mr. Darcy was on his feet still.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. «I’m so sorry, how is my sister?»

The answer came from a quite on edge looking Mr. Darcy. «She’s upstairs.»

The young Bennet looked at him confused, then looked back at Miss Bingley who was carefully overlooking their exchange.

«Thank you.» Elizabeth curtesied and walked out.

Why did Mr. Darcy look so concerned? Was Jane very sick? Was he worried she was going to tell everyone of their secret corrispondence? Elizabeth smiled wickedly at her self.

 _Oh, that would be fun_ , she thought.

Despite she could think of nothing better than to provide _stuckup Darcy_ a great amount of discomfort, she knew better. She was aware of the scandal that would ensue. And the consequences would be far more hard on her family than on his reputation. Did he really consider her so stupid and vengeful? To realize how little he thought of her, after all their years of friendship, really touched a sore spot in her.

She was already halfway through the elegantly furnished corridor, so she couldn’t possibly have seen Mr. Darcy longingly staring after her as she left the room, or heard Miss Bingley’s rude remark. «Did you see her hem, six inches deep in mud? She looked positively medieval.»

Altough, if Miss Bingley really had any interest in knowing Mr. Darcy’s thoughts on the matter, it would have been sufficient for her to look up. She then wolud have seen the utter awe in the man’s face, and would have known: Mr. Darcy thought Elizabeth Bennet - with her long disheveled dark locks, dirty dress and sparkling eyes - was the most beautiful and fierce sight he had ever beheld.

Although, Miss Caroline Bingley would have never known that, nor she had any interest in knowing. She was the kind of person who only ever said what made her feel content at the moment, not really wanting to listen other people’s opinions, nor really interested in actually being listened by them.

 

***

 

As Elizabeth walked into Jane’s room, she plastered a smile on her face, determined not to weight her sister down with her thoughts.

«Jane, my dear.» She sat on her bed, stroking her hair. «You are as pale as a ghost! How are you feeling?»

Her sister stirred under the covers with a moanful noise.

«I feel terrible.» She whined. «I feel like I’m imposing myself on my far too kind hosts.»

Elizabeth smiled at Janes tendency to never worry for herself. «I was asking about your health.» She pointed out with a smirk.

Jane sat up against the pillows, looking at her pleadingly. «I’ve had worse. Now please, let’s go back.»

«Not a chance, Jane, you are burning with fever.»

Elizabeth’s voice let no space to complaints.

«And besides» She added in a hushed tone, wiggling her eyebrows. «I don’t know who is more pleased with your presence here, mama or Mr. Bingley.»

If Jane had enough strenghts she would’ve thrown a pillow to her sister, but she simply smacked her lightly on the knee.

Mr. Bingley entered the room in that moment, shifting awkwardly, bowing his head in Lizzy’s direction and rambling about how her presence was very welcome, just as Jane’s was. «You shall stay here, for Miss Bennet will surely take comfort in a familiar presence.»

Elizabeth smiled at the kind man, and watched her sister blush at the thoughtfullness. «You are very generous, Mr. Bingley, but I surely don’t intend to take advantage of your kindness. You are already providing my sister far more comforts then she would have received had she been at home.»

Mr. Bingley would not have any of it. He could see his attentions were welcomed by Miss Jane, and he would do everything in his power to make her comfortable, even if it meant to invite over her entire and terrifying family! «Oh no, Miss Bennet, I insist!»

And that put an end to the discussion.

Elizabeth was to be caged in the same place as Mr. Dracy, for God knew how many days.

 

***

 

«You write uncommonly fast, Mr. Darcy.»

Elizabeth stared intently at her book, trying not to laugh at the many attempts Miss Bingley had made to catch Mr. Darcy’s attention. She was circling his desk like an hawk, occasionaly brushing a featherlike tuch on the backrest of the chair he was sitting on. His discomfort was visible from miles away, an Lizzy almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

«You are mistaken. I write rather slowly.» He answered while writing.

Miss Bingley was not about to let go. «How many letters you must have occasion to write in the course of a year. Letters of business, too. How odious I should think them!»

«It is fortunate, then, that they fall to my lot instead of yours.»

His cold answer didn’t put an end to Caroline’s mission. «Pray tell your sister that I long to see her.»

«I have already told her so once, by your desire.»

Elizabeth was tempted to steal a glance in his direction. So he did have a sister. He didn’t lie about _everything_ , after all.

Miss Bingley kept on praising Miss Darcy’s skills in designing tables and playing the piano, compliments subtly studied to disrupt Mr. Darcy from his writing, which failed miserably.

«Well I think it’s amazing you ladies have the patince to be so accomplished.» Mr. Bingley observed from his spot on the settee right in front of Elizabeth’s.

«What do you mean Charles?» Miss Bingley’s question was tinted by a not so subtle hint of anoyance and disinterest.

«You all paint tables, play the piano and embroider cushions!» He explained himself with an admired smile, apparently oblivious to his sister’s nuisance. «I never heard of a young lady, but people say she is accomplished.»

Lizzy smiled at the man’s reply.

«The word is indeed applied to liberally.» Replied Mr. Darcy in a distracted manner. _Of course he didn’t agree, the snob_. «I can’t personally name more than half a dozen woman in all my acquaintances that are truly accomplished.»

Miss Bingley promptly agreed with him, and Lizzy felt the sudden urge to challenge them both. «Goodness, you must comprehend a great deal in the idea.»

That managed to get Mr. Darcy attention. «I do.»

«Absolutely.» Miss Carloine intervened again in the dark an _Oh So Full Of Himself_ man’s favour. «She must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and all the modern languages to deserve the word. And something about her air, and manner of walking…»

Elizabeth wore a skeptical look.

«And, of course, she must improve her mind with extensive reading.» Added Mr. Darcy tilting his head in her book’s direction.

 _“Paradise Lost”_ red the cover. Elizabeth realized her mistake too late: Milton was one of his last reading suggestions for her. She hoped he didn’t notice. She closed the book, in a peeved gesture. «I am no longer surprised at your knowing only six accomplished women, I now rather wonder at your knowing any.»

He looked back at her rising an eyebrow. «Are you so severe on your own sex?»

«I never saw such a woman. Surely she would be a fearsome thing to behold.»

That silenced him, as his questioning glance danced on her face, serching for an answer to whatever his questions were. Bingley laughed at her reply, not really knowing how deeply it had affected his friend.

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were still studying eachother when Miss Bingley, tired of being cast aside, stood between them and invited the young Bennet to have a turn around the room with her. Lizzy always thought the act to be quite usless and, since she loved to walk in the open, never understood it fully. But she refrained from voicing her thoughts and accepted her host’s offer, linking her arm in hers.

«It’s refreshing, is it not? After sitting so long in one attitude.»

Elizabeth couldn’t help herself but subtly mock their earlier, ridicoulos discussion. «And it is a small kind of accomplishment, I suppose.»

Of course, Miss Bingley had no interest in what Elizabeth was saying. She merely wanted to catch the eye of a certain gentleman. «Will you not join us, Mr. Darcy?»

The man in question was suddenly very much absorbed in his writing, again. «You can only have two motives, Caroline, and I would interfere with either.»

«What can he mean?»

«The best way to disappoint him would be to ask him nothing about it.» Said Elizabeth with a mischievous smile.

When Miss Bingley insisted, the young man laid his pen down and turned slightly towards them. «Either you are in eachother’s confidence and you have secret affairs to discuss, or you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage by walking.» He explained. «If the first, I would get in your way, if the second--» Mr. Dracy picked up the pen again, but Lizzy swore she saw the ghost of a smile graze his serius features. «I can admire much better from here.»

So the man did have some humor.

Miss Bingley smiled graciously. «Shoking! How should we punish him for such a speech?»

«We could always laugh at him.» Offered Lizzy.

«Oh no, Mr. Darcy is not to be teased.»

«What a shame, for I dearly love to laugh.»

He looked up at her. He remembered her laugh. Young and carefree, running in the morning sun with her curls loose.

Watching him act out some of her favourite passages from adventure novels.

At the Meryton assembly, dancing with her sisters.

 

***

Elizabeth was walking around the glorious gardens of her hosts’ mansion. Breathing some fresh air, she let her mind and feet wander.

She needed some peace and quiet, after passing some days in the company of the _overwhelming_ Miss Bingley, her cheerful and kind brother and his brooding friend. Especially, she needed some peace and quiet before her mother and sisters came to bring Jane and she back home.

Jane was feeling much better, her complexion less pale everyday, the sneezes diminishing and her strenghts coming back. The previous morning she even took a turn around the gardens with Lizzy, well covered up and after a very substantial breakfast.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an unexpected voice. «Miss Bennet.»

And there he was, the one person she tried to keep out of her mind for days, standing off a bench, a book in hand.

«Mr. Darcy.» She curtesied. «Who are you hiding from?»

He linked his hands behind his back, walking up to her. «Just enjoying some fresh air.»

They had been in the same living space for days, and yet he seemed taller then she remembered him to be. And his eyes looked uncommonly light when the sun peeked through the clouds and into them. Elizabeth realized they had been standing there, staring at eachother, closer than it would have been proper for them to be.

«Well, I apologize for disturbing you.» She curtesied again and was about to walk away, but his voice stopped her again.

«Miss Bennet, wait!»

The urgency in his voice compelled her to take a deep breath and turn to him.

He stood there awkwardly, hand on the back of his neck. «Actually, I was looking for you.»

She feigned surprise. «For me?»

«Yes, I wanted us to talk.»

«Why is that, sir? What could we possibly have to discuss about?»

«Miss Bennet, please.»

His pleading voice stopped her when she was withdrawing from him, once again. Elizabeth studied him. He really did look regretful. Was he about to tell her the truth? All of it? She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear it, but curiosity bested her.

«I am aware you want nothing to do with me, and I could not possibly blame you for that.» He spoke in a low, soft voice, slowly walking closer to her as if he was afraid she would flee again. «But we ought to discuss some matters. I owe you that much.»

It was it. He was about to shed light on all those years of confusion he condemnded her to.

«Will you walk with me?» He asked her tentatively, offering her his arm.

«We cannot walk in the gardens unescorted, Mr. Darcy.»

He immediatly lowered it, feeling ashamed of himself for even thinking such a thing. Of course she wouldn’t walk with him. It wouldn’t have been proper for them to. She was not the child he used to play with in the field anymore. She was a proper lady, a gentleman’s daughter, and he could not allow himself to ferget it again.

«Of course. Will you sit with me, then?» He gestured to the bench he had been sitting on merely minutes before, and detected a great degree of incertitude in her eyes. It was still more than propriety would allow, but it was their best chance to clarify some things in private. «A few minutes of your time, it is all I ask.»

She thought about it for a second, then nodded, her heart beating wildly in her chest. They sat side by side, properly far apart from one another, facing forward. Elizabeth elegantly laid her hands on her lap, waiting for him to start.

«I wanted to thank you, Miss Elizabeth.» He said after clearing his throat. «For your discretion in the past few days.»

Oh, so _that_ is what they were going to talk about. Elizabeth tried to hide her disappointment. «I am not young and naive anymore, Mr. Darcy. I am well aware of the consequences my family would endure should our past... connections be revealed.»

«I never doubted that.»

«Yes, you did.» She countered. «Or else, you woldn’t be here now, sir.»

He was aware of her gaze on him, but kept his eyes forward. It was so hard to voice his thoughts, with her. They somehow always seemed to mean something other then what he wanted them to mean, to her. And she never failed to locate the flaw and point it out. She also appeared to have the desire to disprove every and any single statemant of his.

«I merely wanted to offer you my gratitude, for not only you protected your family. You also graciously protected mine.» Said Mr. Darcy casting a sideway glance her way. «I think leaving the past behind would be the best route to take. I hope you agree.»

«I do.»

Mr. Darcy could not find an explanation for how things were turning out. He knew himself to be not a grand orator, but he had prepared a speech for this particular occasion, in order to convey his gratitude and his desire to protect her family and reputation, for he held it in higher regard than his own. And yet, there he was, under her unforgiving glance, blatantly incapable of voicing his feelings.

He squared his shoulders, gathering all his willpower in order to express what he really wanted to.

«Although I am aware you are not partial to it, my hope --» He swallowed heavily. «My hope would be for our relationship to be...civil. So that I, one day, might win your trust again and explain my actions, hoping that will mitigate your disdain in my regards.»

Although the conversation had taken an unwanted turn for Elizabeth’s expectations, his intentions seemed sincere.

«I will think about it, Mr. Darcy.» She said standing up and facing him for the first time. «Civility you might obtain from me, but trust and explanations aren’t among my intersts.»

Elizabeth had never lied so blutantly in her life. She had always been honest, with herself and others. But she wasn’t ready to face herself yet.

«Not right now.» She then added in his benefit.

He stood as well, nodding. «I understand.»

Elizabeth was about to question him about Mr. Wickam, to ask him what connections they had, if they had any at all. But she refrained from it. It would be a topic for another time.

«Good day, Mr. Darcy»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guuuuuyyyyyzzzzzz.  
> Yes, I am sorry for the late update but better late then ever, right?  
> Anyways I am not unemployed anymore (Yay) and am very busy with Uni, so yeah. No more promises fro weekly updates...  
> As always, I'm no expert of 19th century's ways, so you might find some things that aren't exactly accurate historically and culturally speaking. If you know better, please tell me, I'm really interested. And if you see grammar and spelling errors too, point them out, love some poitivi criticism :)  
> Love y'all.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well.  
> Lizzy understands she is in deep, deep shit.  
> Like, really deep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's baaaaackkkk.  
> Yeah well, better late then ever, right? I know, it's been a while. And my updates will keep on being irregular, since I have a lot to do. Buuut, I hope this chapter was worth the wait. It took so long for me to write, and I am quite happy with it. Hope you enjoy it!

It could easily be said that the days Elizabeth spent at the Bingley’s mansion were the longest, most tiresome days of her entire life.

Not only she had to keep under check her sisters and mother’s enthusiasm about anything (“What a wonderful couch! Very elegant, Miss Bingley.”. And that had been one of the less ridiculous comment her mother managed to speak) in order to protect them from Miss Bingley’s attempts to ridicule them and Mr. Darcy icy stares, but she also had to deal alone with her hosts, being \- apparently - the only reasonable female member of her family.

Fortunately, Jane was up and well only a cuple of hours after their mother’s arrival, and proved herself to be an excellent distraction for Mr. Bingley and, consequentially, for her mother and sisters.

That left Elizabeth to deal alone with Miss Bingley, which meant that, the following days, she spent her time verbally swatting away (as gracefully as possible, although through gritted teeth) all the biting comments Caroline sent her way, in a deliberate attempt to get to her.

But all that, Elizabeth Bennet could handle easily and with rational civility.

What she could not handle was Mr. Darcy.

His conceited and prideful attitude, his brooding and his snobbery she could handle.

What she could not handle were the unexpected, violent and raging surges of affection that caught her by surprise every now and then.

The rare times he didn’t “stand in a corner of the room like an ornamental plant” (as she had once told Jane, in attempt to describe his unsociable attitude) and actually tried to engage in some human interaction, he would do something which would remind her of _her_ William. The way he spoke a particular word, or a peculiar gesture she recognized, and a wave of affection hit her out of the blue, nearly knocking her off balance.

The first time it had happened caught her totally umprepared.

She was talking with Miss Bingley when a high pitched, loud laughter caught her attention. Her gaze flickered to the source of the sound, and she saw her mother talking to him. He was obviously uncomfortable, but he stood stoically troughout the verbal attack straight and proud, a hand behind his back.

All it took was one moment.

Mrs Bennet turned around for a split second, and he raised a hand to scratch a spot behind his ear.

 

_«Why do you do that?» She had asked him once._

_«Do what?»_

_«You always scratch a spot behind your ear. A ridiculous amount of times, actually. I counted them yesterday, do you wnat to know how many times you did it in one afternoon?»_

_«No.»_

_«Thirtyfour times.»_

_Firzwilliam had dismissed her with a peeved gesture._

_«Do you have fleas, Will?» She had asked him wickedly._

_«I do not have fleas, Elizabeth Bennet.»_

_«It looks like you do.»_

_«And you look like a rat when you bite your nails.» He had fired back._

_Elizabeth had jumped up at that. «I do not.»_

_«Do too.»_

_«Do not!»_

_«Do too.»_

_«Take it back!»_

_«Never!»_

_(She had tried to hit him once, but he was too tall._  
_«And you fight like a hamster, too.»_  
_The second time she tried, she actually managed to land a decent punch. On his shoulder._  
_She apologized._  
_Later.)_

 

Her breath caught, her heart skipped a beat, her eyes swelled up with tears, and she narrowly knocked a chair over.

She had always prided herself to be a rational and intelligent woman, capable of not letting emotions cloud her better judgment. Her stay in Netherfield made that certainty of hers sway, and that just added another point to the long list of reasons why she disliked to be in Mr. Darcy’s presence.

So those were her occupations: nursing her mother and sisters, politely dismissing Miss Bingley’s honey-coated attempts to rile her up, and suppressing some confusing feelings she felt in regards of a man she was supposed to despise.

As soon as Jane had fully recovered, she almost pushed her family out of the doors. She really, really wanted to go home.

Elizabeth curtesied to Miss Bingley on her way out. «Thank you, for your most constructive company».

She suppressed the urge to smirk at her own words, as Miss Bingley curtesied back. «The pleasure was all mine».

Mr. Bingley was extremely kind in his goodbyes, charmingly helping Mrs Bennet and all of her sisters to climb onto the carriage, after assuring the young girls they were all soon to be invited to the imminent ball they had ardently (and quite insistently) suggested him to throw.

He and Jane curtesied to each other, smiling and swaying a little on their feet as they straightened.

It seemed like they both wanted to extend that moment as much as possible. Jane thanked him again, even after having done so quite repeatedly during her stay, and then climbed onto the carriage with the gentleman’s help.

«Miss Bennet.» Mr. Darcy greeted Elizabeth with his deep voice as soon as she approached the carriage, bowing his head.

«Mr. Darcy.» She replied in nature, avoiding his eyes.

She then turned to Mr. Bingley, who was smiling widely at her. She too smiled at him and curtesied.

If she ever had any doubts about Mr. Bingley when she first met him, in that moment she had none. Sure, he wasn’t the brightest man of her aquaintance, but he was kind, and loyal, and brave: he had been willing to invite her overwhelming family over to his mansion, after already hosting her and tending to Jane.

He had a pure heart, she pondered while climbing onto the carriage.

When an unexpected warmth spread throughout her palm, she wipped her head around, just in time to catch a glimpse of Mr. Darcy’s deep blue eyes.

The extent of time he held her hand were merely seconds, until she was seated, then he turned without flinching and walked away.

Elizabeth stared at his back while the carriage moved forward, incredulous.

She did not know the reason, nor how to explain it in words, nor the source of the feeling.

But she felt something.

The warmth was gone as fast as it had came and a tingling sensation spread from her hand to her hair. She marvelled at the feeling till it lasted, a bit in awe, a bit confused. Maybe it meant something.

Did he feel it, too?

Maybe she still despised him, because her reason still had the upper hand on her feelings.

But perhaps her heart was already prepared to forgive him. What was to happen, when her sentiment would overcome her intellect?

Elizabeth was too scared to dwell on the matter any further, and tuck her hand under her thights.

(Little did she know, he felt it too.)

 

*** 

 

Elizabeth never loved her home as much as she did the first days they got back from Netherfield.

Her chores were a relief to her, and even the messy atmosphere which ruled, as usually, in the Bennet’s mansion felt like a welcome change.

She had missed sharing a room with Jane, and the late night talks that used to take place in it.

«Mr. Bingley is everything a young gentleman ought to be.» Jane had told her the night they got back, while they hid under the blanket to muffle their whispers.

«He’s handsome, and kind, and caring.»

«And also happens to be very rich, which never hurts.» Elizabeth had teased her and Jane stifled her laughter in the pillow.

«You really do like him, don’t you?»

Jane blushed. «Very much.»

Elizabeth bit her thumbnail, studying her sister attentively. She really looked smitten, all blush and shy smiles. And nothing could make her more happy, for she had never seen her sister so involved.

But, on the other hand, she was worried about her. If things didn’t work out, her sister would really suffer from it, she could tell.

«Do you think he likes me?»

Jane stared back at her expectantly

«Jane, he can’t even find the words to put togheter a logical sentence, when he’s around you, of course he likes you. I’d say he likes you very much.»

Jane’s smile was so wide Elizabeth was worried her face would break.

«What about Mr. Darcy?»

«What about him?»

«He seemed pretty civil in your regards, this past days.» Jane noted.

Lizzy raised an eyebrow. Her sister had no idea. «Did he now?»

«Come on, give him the benefit of the doubt, he was not all that bad. I think the man is just shy.»

«For a shy man, he surely does know how to offend a woman.»

Jane seemed to think about it for a while.

«I thing we ought to show him some kindness.» Lizzy raised an eyebrow skeptically. «After all, he’s not likely to get any in the future, since Miss Bingly seems to have her mind set on making him her husband.»

Lizzy’s eyes widened, and she put a hand on her mouth. «Has Jane Bennet, the purest and kindest soul on the planet, just made a joke at Miss Bingley’s expenses?»

Her sister laughed. «I think she did. She might be getting the hang of this.»

«Bravo!»

 

***

 

After a week, two things arrived at the Bennet’s mansion.

The first: an official invitation for the whole Bennet family to join the ball, which was to take place at the Bingley’s mansion a week forth.  
The second: A small man, with little piercing (and not in a flattering way) eyes and a ridicolous hat.

Mr. Collins was Mr. Bennet distant cousin, and was to stay with them for three weeks.

For a very small man, he surely had plenty of words in him. Praises about the Bennet girls, about the food, about the house (of course, since he was going to inherit it). When they dined all he could talk about was his new position as clergyman at the Hunsford parsonage. «Which is located near Rosing's Park, the estate of my most illustious patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.» He had felt the need to point out. Unfortunately the name meant nothing to the Bennet’s family ears, so Mr. Collins felt the need to go over the entire De Bourgh lineage, praising their achievements and noble origins.

Mr. Bennet was smiling through the whole dinner, galncing occasionaly at Lizzy who, he knew, found the man funny just as much as he did.

 

*** 

 

A few days before the ball, the young Bennet girls went down at the village to buy some dressing items for the ball. They were all glefully strolling through the streets, when Lydia squealed loudly.

«Mr. Wickam!»

The leftenant, who was talking with a large man at a vegetable stand, turned to them and gave them a dazzling smile and a wave, as soon as he recognized them. He walked towards them, bowing his head in the direction of Elizabeth’s young giggling sister.

He then turned to her. «Miss Elizabeth.»

«Mr. Wickam.» She curtesied, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. «What a pleasant surprise! I thought the regiment left.»

«They did.»

«What kept you here, sir?»

He smiled and got a bit closer. Elizabeth was enraptured by his gaze.

«I told you I would be waiting for you to come.»

Her blush was now spreading to her ears and neck, and her sisters giggled behind her back, but she smiled at him nonetheless, aknowledging his efforts.

Lydia cut in promptly. «Mr. Wickam, we were just about to look for some ribbons.»

«Truly, this time.» Added Kitty.

Lizzy smiled at their sisters, letting them know she would play their game.

«Will you care to join us Mr. Wickam?» She asked turning back to face him, and smirked. «If I recall correctly, you were quite keen on the prospect when we first met.»

«I was. In fact, I still am, Miss.» He offered her his arm. «Shall we?»

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the poeple who keep on following me, even if I am terrible with my updates.  
> To all the people who leave comments and kudos.  
> To all the people who just read silently.  
> Thank you, you really are the reason I keep on writing (irregularly, but eh)  
> Love youuuuuuu


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